Nothing interesting, just me realizing I´m a creep

I talked to my mother about those empathy scores (very matter-of-factly, actually) and she said “yes, it makes sense, when you were a kid you were sometimes obtrusive, even aggressive towards other kids, like you wanted to relate to them but didn´t know how”. She also talked about how, when my cousin was little, I demanded that I could carry her and cuddle her whenever I wanted as if she was a doll and not a human being.

Since that discussion I´m feeling pretty low. It´s something I instinctively want to look away from. It seems to be a fact that sometimes I´m trying to force love. As a kid, I even used physical violence, like holding other kids down when their mothers came to pick them up after playtime, because I wanted them to stay. Which officially makes me a creep.

Wanting to be loved or at least liked so badly that I do stupid stuff is apparently my best kept secret. Half of the time I don´t even realize I´m doing it. While I´m not being violent or aggressive anymore, it still happens that I feel absolutely miserable when I´m alone in a group. Sometimes I´ll try to hard to be liked, and the more I realize I alienate people the more outrageous stuff I say. Now, I usually turn the aggression against myself and keep quiet. Or when people just won´t come home I assume they don´t love me anymore and therefore chose to get abducted or killed. They´d rather die than come back to me. As a result, I keep on calling them or trying to figure out why they might be late. Nice, stalkerish behavior.

What do I do with this realization other than using it as a rationale for suicide? Not that I intent to kill myself. I´m just not sure how the hell to deal with this. Because if there´s one thing I won´t do it´s seeing a therapist. And that seems to be about the only answer people have to this. Other than suicide, because I´m an evil, abusive person who, if she had any decency at all, removed herself from the gene pool.

I´ve got plenty of decency. I committed emotional suicide long ago. Or why else would I have the ability to detach myself from everything, to want nothing? Why else would I be so quiet and shy around people, and ashamed when they think I´m nice?

Because of decency, well, yeah, and most of all because of shame. What a terrible person I am is my own problem, and as long as I don´t make it theirs I have a right to privacy. I don´t have to justify myself or let anyone know how bad it is. I don´t have to talk to anyone about my true feelings and all that. As long as I´m agreeable enough no one can demand to know the truth. No one can demand that I become a better person. No one can send me to therapy programs where I´m talked down to like a little kid, “now how does that make you feel”, “what could be person A´s motivation for acting that way”, “how might it make person B feel if you do y”, “what could you do instead to make person B feel more comfortable around you”?

Nah. Screw that, seriously.

I think what I want is not merely being loved or accepted, but a certain kind of interaction. I mean, most of the time I´m not really interested in the normal stuff people talk about. What I enjoy is banter, discussions (not heated ones, but just talking about a non-personal subject while using logical arguments), and topics that touch upon my sadistic streak (desasters, crimes, serial killers, BDSM itself). If I´m lucky, I´ll get banter. And maybe a little bit of a discussion. Most of the time, though, it´s all about “I´m doing this now, and my professor recently said x, and then my aunt did y….” Or, if I´m with nerds: Computers. Nerdy conventions. Computers. Well.

Hey, did I just realize I simply don´t like personal conversations that revolve around everyday life activities, friends and relatives? Good. Because I´ll have to deal with the fact that most conversations tend to go that way. I go to social gatherings believing something great might happen, like, I might get into a great, profound discussion with someone, or I´ll stand there with someone giggling as we exchange jerk-off fantasies (ah, so that´s my equivalent to people thinking they´ll find some “hot girl” to talk to and possibly get laid…) or plot the perfect murder, or that I´ll entertain everybody with banter and jokes. Not how social gatherings work.

When my expectations are disappointed, I might start to force things. Or, which is more likely, I´ll sit there moping and hope no one talks to be about why I am “so silent”. Okay. Lesson One: Enter conversations and social gatherings knowing that your hopes won´t be fulfilled.

But where and when will they be fulfilled? I´d be much less obtrusive and aggressive if I had any idea how to do that. This is not the same as the need to beat someone up or hold them down. It´s about talking, theorizing, fantasizing, not doing. The worst part is that I can talk about the same thing for ages. I´ll just talk, talk, talk, come back to it, just for the pleasure of having my mind revolve around it. Not just morbid stuff, although, yes, most commonly it is.

Maybe I just need to accept that I´m extremely weird and that there are few people like me out there, and even fewer people who share my specific interests. I have both unusual interests and unusual ways of dealing with them. Maybe if I accept that I can somehow be glad that I have some friends anyway. Actually there´s no reason why anyone would be friends with someone like me. Maybe my interests are something I should predominantly pursue in isolation. Although that doesn´t really work for me. I yearn to talk to people about them. Most of the time when I think about the stuff I´m interested in I imagine I´m telling people about it, and therefore I try to structure my thoughts and think in complete sentences.

I´m tired, though thankfully not as uncomfortable anymore. It´s just that right now every sentence I write down sounds weird and alienating to me. Maybe it´s time to stop.

 

 

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